Hollow
by cornwallace
Summary: Victory can be so...


I wake up on the floor.  
Left side of my face sticky, fur matted between the tile floor and my sensitive skin.  
Vision blurred. Florescent light fixture above me swinging back and forth in my peripheral. Hands at my side. Elbows bend until palms can press flatly against the cold tile, weakly trying to force myself up.  
Dizzy.  
Nauseous.  
Knees bend beneath me, sliding under my rising form.  
Blink a few times in attempts to clear my vision up. Surroundings slowly come into focus. Practically empty warehouse. Broken mirror lines the wall before my. Gaze lowers to reveal the bloody form on the floor.  
Hm. Seems I'm not alone.  
Scramble to me feet. Balance is all fucked off. Lean against the closest wall, to my left, to keep myself up.

Hello?

Silence, save for my own words echoing back at me. Sharp pain in my head.  
On the ground next to where I was laying, a shiny revolver, twinkling in a pool of blood. At my side, an empty holster.  
Must be mine.  
Bend down to pick it up, and holster it.  
Approach the figure to examine more closely.  
Head destroyed. Perhaps I am alone.  
A mess of blue and red spikes. Limbs limply sprawled out in chaotic order. Grey, bloody brain matter and pieces of skull, scattered outwardly before his lifeless form.  
Did I do this?  
Good riddance, I guess.  
Eyes scan the walls around me for the exit. There - a door.  
Awkwardly make my way over to it and turn the knob. Push. It doesn't budge. Pull, and sunlight washes over me, stinging my eyes. Fresh, cold air fills my lungs.  
Take a step out, door closing behind me.  
Dilapidated, run down city. Condemned buildings line the streets scattered with shrapnel and unnatural pieces of concrete. Pitted and potholed. Trees line the outskirts of what's left of this city to my left. To my right, I see tall buildings. Artificial lights.  
Head ringing.  
Take a right and carefully make my way towards the bowels of the city, carefully making my way across the destroyed road. Watching my step, as to not trip on something, or fall into any of the craters.  
It's as if a war has taken place here.  
Head ringing. Eyes burning, scanning my surroundings for something, anything.  
Keep walking. There's bound to be something for me ahead.

-

First sign of life I've seen in about an hour.  
Old, worn building. Neon sign says open. Flickering irregularly.  
Stumble over to the old, splintering wooden door and pull it open. Dark in here. Pretty desolate. A bar, a green hedgehog standing behind the bar, pouring himself a drink, and knocking it back. He doesn't notice me until after I sit down on the closest stool.

Nack! he says.  
Hey, I reply, quietly.

Nack.. is that my name?

You're back! That must mean you've done it!  
Done what, exactly?  
The job's done, right? That must be why you've returned! You've killed my brother, yes?  
Yeah, I say. I think so. Is he blue?  
What's gotten into you, Nack?  
I.. don't know, exactly. I need something for my head. There's something wrong with my head.  
Something wrong with your head, eh? Here.

He fetches a new glass and fills it to the top with whiskey. Slides it over to me.

Here, he says. Something for your head.  
Thanks, I say, taking a hit.

Barkeep makes his way over to the end of the bar and picks up the phone hanging on the wall, cradling the receiver between his head and shoulder as he presses buttons rapidly. Once finished, he grabs it with his hand, to hold it more comfortably.

Hello, doctor.... Yes, it's important.... Uh huh.... Nack's returned.... Yes... There's something wrong with his head.... I think so.... Yeah, he's bleeding pretty bad, looks like he took quite a blow... Yes.... Right now? ... Yes, of course. Gotcha.... Right, okay. Yes sir.

He hangs up, and walks back over to me, as I finish off my glass.

Another? he asks.  
Sure.  
Doctor wants to see you, he says, filling my cup.  
The doctor, huh? Yeah, I think I need to see him.  
That was a very brave thing you did, Nack.  
Oh yeah?  
Definitely. Marching right into the belly of the beast like that. Inside job. They would have tortured you, had they found you out. But I'm sure you were already aware of that. Damn good liar, you've always been, sir.  
Thanks, I say before draining the glass once more. Too bad I can't remember it.  
Fucked your brain up, eh? Don't worry. Doctor will take care of that, I'm sure. He's going to hold you in very high regards.  
Uh huh. Where do I go to see this doctor?  
Don't worry, he's sending transport. So, how'd you do it?  
What?  
How did you kill Sonic the hedgehog?  
I think I shot him in the face. In a warehouse on the outskirts of the city.  
How did you manage that?  
I don't remember.  
Well, fuck, he says, pouring himself another drink.

The door behind me opens, and there's a short bald man in grey uniform walking across the threshold. After a certain amount of steps, he stands silhouetted in the dying sunlight.

Nack?  
I guess that's me, I say to the barkeep, getting up and making my way over to him.  
Your chariot awaits you, sir.  
Thanks, I say, walking out into the street once more.

The sun is setting over the horizon, the bright lights of the city before me becoming brighter, more defined. The bald man gestures over to a hovercraft, and I make my way across the street, over to it. Hopping in back, I wait for the bald man to walk all the way around, over to the other side of it, and get into the front seat.

So, you finally did it, eh?  
I guess.  
The whole city is indebted to you, Nack. The doctor will be very pleased.

I don't respond. I just sit silently, watching the world pass me by as the bald man drives us into the city.  
Trying to think.

Trying to remember....


End file.
